New York to Dallas

partner contacted him. He looked puzzled at first, let it go to v-mail. Then he was furious. He didn’t rage, but he was so angry. He took out the knife. I knew he meant to kill us, but he just stood there.”
    “Stood there?”
    “Just stood there for a minute, looking blank, looking like someone who’d lost their train of thought or forgotten what they’d meant to do next.”
    Eve’s eyes sharpened. “He wasn’t sure what to do?”
    “Yes, but it was more like he couldn’t remember, or couldn’t decide. Then he just turned around and walked out, locked us in again. I kept waiting for him to come back, to come back with the knife. That was the worst of all of it. Waiting for him to come back with the knife, and knowing I wouldn’t be able to stop him.”
    She fought off a shudder. “Why didn’t he come back?”
    “The extra time, extra mess, lack of interest. The sudden, unexpected change in plans.” Eve hesitated, then decided Melinda deserved the full truth. “And he knows you won’t forget him, either of you. That’s important to him.”
    “He marked her.” Melinda laid her fingertips on her heart. “And me, again. We can have it erased, like I did before. But it’s always going to be there.”
    “You got through it. So will she.”
    “I hope you’re right. You never get over it. You can’t. So you have to get through it. She’s one of us now, poor little girl. One of his numbers.”
    “You’re not a number, Melinda, to anyone but him. You should remember that. Remember he tried to make you one twice, but he couldn’t.” Eve got to her feet. “And when he’s back in prison, go see him again, and show him that.”
    “Will you talk to Darlie now?”
    “Yeah. If you remember anything else, just let me know.”
    When she stepped out into the hall, Bree walked up to her. “We’re tracing the leather sheath. It’s a good lead.”
    “Look at the clothes, too. The belt and shoes especially. She bought some of the wardrobe for him, but he’d want to shop for himself after being caged. Browse, touch fabrics. Maybe he did a little shopping when he went to the bank. He might want to replace some of the things he had to leave behind.”
    “I’ll work from here. They’re bringing in a cot so I can stay with her tonight. It’s not likely he’ll come back for either of them, but—”
    “He won’t be back, but why take chances? Stay with your sister.” She crossed the hall, turned back. “He’s not as smart as he thinks he is, not this time. He’s caught up in being out, in being free as much as by the plans he made. He wants his fashionable wardrobe, his good wines. He needs them after being denied for so long. He can’t stay under long, it’s like being back in a cage.”
    “And he’ll want another girl.”
    “Yeah.”
    Thinking of that, Eve opened the door to Darlie’s room.
    The mother sat on the bed, an arm curved around Darlie’s shoulder, with the father flanking the other side. Eve’s entrance had interrupted. She could see the father desperately trying to make Darlie smile or laugh.
    Tears shimmered in his eyes as he turned toward Eve.
    “I’m Lieutenant Dallas.”
    “I remember.” The mother stood up. “You were at the mall when . . . I remember. We’re so grateful, my husband and I, and Darlie.”
    “I saw you. You came in the room.” Darlie’s gaze fixed on Eve. “You came in, and you said we were safe.”
    “You are safe now.”
    “Melinda said you’d come.” Her fingers fretted with the hospital sheet. “Where’s Melinda?”
    “She’s right across the hall.”
    “Did you find him yet? Did you find him and put him back in jail?”
    “Working on it.”
    Darlie took a little sobbing breath that had her father’s face crumbling, and her mother moving in to take her hand.
    “I’d like to speak with Darlie alone.”
    “She’s already gone over everything,” Mr. Morgansten began. “She really needs to—”
    “It’s okay. It’s okay, Daddy. I want to talk to her. Melinda said. It’s okay.”
    “We’ll give you a little time.” Mrs. Morgansten stood up, hovered a moment. “Let’s go outside,” she suggested to her husband.
    “I . . . We’ll go get you that ice cream,” he said to Darlie. “How’s that?”
    “Okay.”
    “Fudge Sludge, right? Your fave. You’re a slave to your fave.”
    “That’s the best.”
    “We won’t be long.” He bent down, kissed her. When he turned to go, the look he sent Eve was a painful